


Lemon Tea and TV Murders

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: Dark Matter [19]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam and Keith are basically Vitrolic Best Buds, Adam is a mother hen, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Midsomer Murders - Freeform, Sickfic, a normal cold for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 03:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17276420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Keith has a cold, Adam is a mother-hen, and they both introduce Lance to their favorite sick-person show.





	Lemon Tea and TV Murders

**Author's Note:**

> me+cold=midsomer murders binge+Keith sickfic  
> writing brain this time: combine???? combine!!!!  
> you're welcome
> 
> this is, technically, Dark Matter universe so I'm gonna put it in, but it's also so very far in the future it seems wildly disconnected from everything else.

Shiro was sitting at the table quietly sipping on orange juice and reading through the newest report on their efforts to track the Thuranial when Lance bounced his way down the stairs. “Hey, Shiro!”

“Goodmorning, Lance.”

Lance grabbed himself an apple and sat down across from him. “Are you doing work right now?”

“.....Nooooo?”

“I’ve lived in a confined space with you long enough to know when you’re lying, Shiro.”

Shiro gave him a half-glare and put the tablet down. “I didn’t expect you up until at least thirteen-hundred considering I don’t even know when you two got home last night, so I figured I’d get some work done while it was quiet.”

Lance gasped in mock offense. “We’re _quiet.”_

“Oh I wasn’t talking about you. Have you seen Keith and Adam play Mario Kart ever?” Shiro grinned. “It’s louder than your niblings.”

“Wait, really? Dude, we need to get the team together for a tournament before we leave for Olkarion. I wanna see this.”

“You might get to later, I happen to know Keith promised Adam a few rounds before he left.”

Lance hummed. “Well, tell them not to before I get back.”

“Get back? Where are you going?”

“Oh, Mom and Mama wanted to see us when we got back. The Federation must’ve released us at like oh-one-hundred and we had to fly back here so we didn’t really have time yesterday.” Lance frowned and looked down at his half-eaten apple. “I don’t really wanna wake Keith up though, so I guess I’m just heading over myself. He didn’t seem like he was doing too hot last night.”

“He’s been on Feyiv for a movement, of course he’s tired.”

“Kunanmora.”

Shiro blinked. “What?”

“Galran word for it is Kunanmora; Feyiv is Altean. Means second-home. Most Galactic charts call it Feyiv but every Galra I’ve met, including Keith, calls it Kunanmora. Anyway no, he seemed more than just tired. I caught him hiding a cough more than once and even his purple seemed a little paler.”

Shiro considered. He hadn’t seen either Paladin since they’d landed on Earth again after separate movement-long diplomatic missions, so he couldn’t confirm Lance’s opinion with his years of experience dealing with their stubborn Red Paladin. He fully trusted Lance’s judgement on this, though, considering Lance now had a good number of years under his belt of taking care of Keith. “Think it’s anything worse than a cold?”

Lance shook his head. “Don’t think so. He’d tell me if he felt really bad. I think he just didn’t want to look sick in front of the Federation people.”

Shiro smiled a wry smile. “Sounds like him. If you wanna run to your moms’ I think Adam and I can keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t sneeze all over the sheets and all that.”

“Yeah but….”

“Oh go see your family. Say hi to your moms for me.”

Shiro hustled Lance out the door with a promise to call him if Keith got worse and immediately went back upstairs. The door to Lance and Keith’s room was slightly ajar and Shiro poked his head in. He could just barely see purple ears peeking out from under the covers. Keith was curled up in a ball, snoring softly through a congested nose.

Bare arms wrapped themselves around Shiro’s waist and a chin attempted to land itself on his shoulder. “If you’re trying to get Keith to make you breakfast I don’t think it’s going to work today. Heard them get back around oh-two-hundred.”

“Lance said he was sick, so I’m checking on him.”

“Ah. Wait, Lance is up? Damn, wish I was that young and able to operate on four hours of sleep.”

Shiro twisted in the arms to face his husband. “You’re not even thirty.”

“Yeah, that’s old.”

He rolled his eyes, then frowned. “Wait, why were you up at oh-two-hundred.”

Adam shrugged. “The usual. Come on, I’ll make you breakfast.”

 

Shiro got back from his run to find Keith pouting at the table and Adam puttering about the kitchen. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek as he maneuvered behind him to grab some water. Keith was swallowed in one of Lance’s sweatshirts, a blanket he clearly hadn’t put there around his shoulders. He gave Shiro his best puppy dog eyes and a pleading look. “Shiroooooooo, get your husband to stop mother-henning me.” An extremely hoarse voice betrayed his cold.

“Oh hush, Keith,” Adam said from where he was fiddling with a teakettle on the stove, “I’m not _mother-henning.”_

“You are, you do this _every time_ I’m sick.”

“Well, to be fair,” Shiro said, refilling his cup, “you usually need it by the time you let yourself acknowledge you’re sick.”

“Not true.”

Both Shiro and Adam gave him a look. There had been enough incidents at the Garrison of them having to drag a clearly sick Keith back to their quarters, or even on one memorable occasion the infirmary, to make a book of. His bad habit hadn’t exactly _improved_ after they ended up in space with trillions of unknown pathogens, either.

“....okay maybe a little true.”

“Exactly,” Adam nodded. “What sort of tea do you want?”

“I don’t need to be mother-henned right now! It’s just a cold!”

“Tea, Keith, you don’t wanna lose your voice for a week.”

“Adaaaaaaaammmmm!”

Shiro sighed. “Adam, he’s twenty-three and has been running a space war for six years, I think he’s learned how to take care of himself at this point. That said, though, what sort of tea, Keith?”

Keith glared at him for a moment, but it was interrupted by a wet coughing fit. With a sigh and drooping ears he relented. “Do we still have that lemon stuff?”

 

**_To: Space Kitten; 0840_ **

Hey, you’re probably still asleep but jsyk I’m at Mama’s

Didn’t want to wake you up and Shiro kinda shoved me out the door

I hope you’re feeling better :(

Love you mi vida <3

**_To: Kaalvi; 1227_ **

W h y did you tell Shiro I’m sick

I walked down the stairs and was immediately mothered

**_To: Space Kitten; 1227_ **

Oh come on he’s not _that_ bad

**_To: Kaalvi; 1228_ **

Not Shiro

Adam

You’ve never seen Adam in Mother ModeTM

**_To: Space Kitten; 1228_ **

Want me to come home and save you?

**_To: Kaalvi; 1230_ **

No I’ve known Adam for long enough I know how to deal

I’ll be fine

Say hi to your moms for me

**_To: Space Kitten; 1359_ **

They say they love you and are sending me home with soup

Like. A lot of soup.

Where they got the rations for this I have no idea

I’ll see you in half an hour or so

 

Lance pushed the door open with his foot, hands full of soup. “I’m hoooome!”

He saw a pair of purple ears on the couch twitch in his direction, but their owner didn’t make a noise or get up so Lance assumed he was asleep. Adam waved at him from the opposite end of the couch where he seemed to be watching TV and knitting, and Shiro got up from the table he’d been working at. “Here, I’ll take that.”

Lance let him take it with a “Careful, it’s heavy,” and then moved over to the couch. He leaned over the back and looked down at his sleeping partner. Keith had his knees tucked up to his chest, leaning against a pillow propped up against the arm of the chair. He still looked pale and his nose was red from the pile of tissues not quite in the trash can. Lance brushed his bangs out of his eyes and shifted a hand to feel his forehead.

A mostly-asleep hand swatted at him. “G’way, Ad’m.”

“I’m not Adam.”

Purple eyes blinked open and shifted to look up at him. “Oh. Hi.” A soft smile appeared on his face, but it was ruined when he shifted to cough not in Lance’s face.

Lance winced in sympathy and rubbed his back. “Not feeling any better I take it?”

“Eh, better than a few days ago,” Keith croaked.

Three sets of eyes turned to him. “....a few days ago.”

“Yeah. Getting a cold in the middle of the first official meeting of the newly reconstructed House Council is not fun, I can tell you that.”

Shiro groaned, Adam got off the couch with a sigh, and Lance hung his head. “Please tell me you at least told Krolia.”

“I didn’t even have to. Sasa just dragged me to the infirmary without a word. Once the medic had confirmed it was just a cold she tried to get me to come back to Earth immediately, but that seemed….bad diplomatically.”

“Keith, you shouldn’t be--”

Keith made to interrupt his brother but stopped to cough first. He made a face at the mucus he could feel moving in his throat. “Look, Shiro, you have absolutely _no_ idea what we had to do to even get people to agree to the Council meeting. Lotor had to pull all his weight as Zarkon’s son and a Templar, Sasa as one of the Blade Generals, and me as a Paladin. There was a lot riding on all three of us being present and accounted for. I couldn’t just _leave_ because of a cold.”

Lance could understand that, he supposed. He’d watched Keith work himself beyond exhaustion to start bringing democracy back to the Galra Empire. Didn’t mean he liked it though. “Did you at least _rest?”_

“Yes, Lance. Sasa actually got Lotor to lock me out of the training room for the movement despite the fact I didn’t even have the time to get to that wing of the palace. Didn’t let me out of her sight unless I was with Kolivan or asleep.”

“I’m pushing the trip to Olkarion back a week.”

“Wh— _Shiro,_ that’s _important!”_

“Yeah, but a little useless if we don’t have five working Paladins and Allura’s busy on Ambar. This way you have time to rest up and she has time to finish setting Ambar up to fully join the Coalition and we’ll have all six Paladins.”

Keith huffed, then coughed, proving the point. Adam arrived from where he’d disappeared into the kitchen, a steaming mug in his hands. He pointedly handed it to Keith, who took it with a half-assed glare. Shiro threw a bottle of cold medicine at him with clear purpose. Lance gently shoved Keith slightly to the side and plopped down next to him on the couch. Keith took the silent invitation and leaned against him.

Lance jumped as a loud noise that sounded a lot like a gunshot emanated from the TV. On screen, someone collapsed to the ground, blood slowly pooling from the wound in their back. “Jesus, what are you _watching?”_

“Midsomer Murders,” Adam answered. He’d sat back down with his knitting. “It’s a good century old at least but still good. Old British crime drama.”

“Ew, why did you put on a _Scott_ one?” Keith whined. “You said we were watching a good episode.”

“And then you fell asleep, so I put on one of my favorites.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at his brother-in-law. “This is the one with the creepy old man who falls in love with a girl and blows off her mom because of who she looks like and Scott being an ass to a girl as usual; why do you _like_ this one? Actually wait isn’t he an ass to the girl _and blows Cully off at the same time?”_

“Well, I actually put on the one before this with the whole publishing conspiracy thing. I do admit this one is a bit….ehhhhh.”

“You’re torturing yourself, Adam,” Keith managed through a coughing fit. “The least you could do if you’re not gonna watch a Troy one is a Jones one.”

“Scott isn’t _that bad.”_

“No, but he’s most certainly not Troy.”

Lance almost felt like he should raise a hand. “Uh, can someone explain to me who all these characters are?”

Shiro started ticking things off on his fingers from where he’d taken a seat on the big chair. “Tom Barnaby is the main detective of the show, later replaced with his cousin John Barnaby because of actor things. Joyce is Barnaby’s wife, she often gets caught up in the action simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Cully is his daughter, a struggling actress who ends up in many of the same positions but has a little more of her father’s detective smarts and often helps out. Troy is his first assistant, who starts out a bit of an idiot but actually grows a lot until he’s promoted and leaves the show. Scott is his second assistant, who I don’t know much about because these two never watch any episodes with him, and Jones is his third.”

“You left out the bit that all the sergeants are _clearly_ huge closet cases.”

Shiro looked at his husband, confused. “Scott?”

Both Adam and Keith nodded sagely. “Even Scott.”

“Jones?”

“Probably bi, but yep.”

“You can’t be serious about Troy.”

“Oh come on, Takashi, he _clearly_ has the biggest case of internalized homophobia to ever be portrayed in media.”

“Doesn’t he kiss Cully at one point???”

Keith waved him off. “She has Twentieth Century Lesbian Haircut Number Seventy-Five; they probably acted as beards for each other for a while.”

Shiro squinted at them. “I feel like this is wishful thinking because I’m not sure I see it.”

“Shut up and let us enjoy our secretly gay old detective show in peace, Shiro.”

“Well, obviously you need to watch it all again then.” Adam picked up the remote and started flipping between episodes. “We can start with that one Jones episode--”

“Oh no, Adam, we’re starting with a _Troy_ _episode.”_

Lance leaned back and held Keith’s tea while he and Adam fought over the remote and which episode they were starting with. He glanced over at Shiro, who rolled his eyes with a fond smile. Eventually the two somehow settled on the very first episode, and Keith leaned back against Lance.  After a few episodes, Lance began to understand why his partner and brother-in-law loved this show so much. Troy was hilarious, Barnaby was a genius, and the show had surprisingly good writing.

He turned to ask Keith a question about what had just happened in the episode, but found him fast asleep. With a soft smile he pulled the blanket Adam had dropped on them earlier further up and shifted so Keith had a better pillow than his shoulder. He was fully prepared to not move for the rest of the night if it meant Keith got some rest.

 

(It turned out he didn’t have to, because the moment Shiro admitted he could see Troy’s internalized homophobia Keith jolted upright with a yell of _“See!”_ and promptly broke out into a coughing fit.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is where I complain about the distinct lack of Troy-centric Midsomer Murders fanfic (or really, lack of _any_ ). Like, come _on_ I just passed his last episode give me more of the boy! I'm having to make to do with Jones fic and I haven't even met him yet.  
> Maybe I'm just spoiled by the Voltron fandom being huge + my fav ship + character being the most popular.


End file.
